


the mission

by lizamarri



Series: brooklyn nine-nine au [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, PERALTIAGO AND KLANCE ARE EXACTLY THE SAME ITS FREAKY, Undercover Missions, brooklyn nine nine au part two, ho boy you better buckle up for this one folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizamarri/pseuds/lizamarri
Summary: Despite his best and totally not noticeable efforts, Lance has been assigned Keith as his partner for a high stakes case. And in true McClain luck fashion, the only way they can get close enough to the guy to grab him is...Pretending to be a couple.Shenanigans ensue. Lance looks fantastic in women's jackets, and Keith secretly has a soft spot for champagne, perogies, andmaybe Lance, too.*BROOKLYN NINE-NINE AU PART TWO
Relationships: Allura & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: brooklyn nine-nine au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095155
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	the mission

**Author's Note:**

> BACK AT IT AGAIN AT KRISPY KREME
> 
> (will i say this every time i post a sequel-- yes)
> 
> you all thought the first one was adorable so hey! part two!
> 
> this is based on the episode 'Johnny and Dora'. enjoy!

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Lance clicks a button on his remote control. “Meet Andrew Giovanni, Brooklyn’s most prolific identity thief.” A picture of Giovanni slides onto screen. “Yesterday, he walked into a federal building and stole a briefcase containing a hundred thousand social security numbers.”

Lance turns back to the assembled precinct. “We believe Giovanni’s going to be handing the package off to a buyer late tonight.”

“Two teams for this assignment,” Shiro announces. “Lance, I want you and Keith tailing the mark. Allura and Hunk, you’ll be with them in a surveillance van.”

Lance digs his fingers into his palm. “I-- I could take Hunk with me on the tailing team.”

From one of the tables in front of him, Keith frowns. Lance doesn’t meet his eyes. 

Shiro purses his lips. “Why?”

“Uh,” Lance stutters. “Keith, didn’t you say, like… you’ve got a lot of cases, or something?”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “No, I did not.” He tilts his head. “Did you have espresso shots this morning?”

“Enough,” Shiro interrupts. “Keith and Lance on the tail team, Hunk and Allura in the surveillance van. Dismissed!”

Lance snaps his case file shut, fleeing from the briefing room to the break room. He hides next to the vending machine, shrugging and punching in the numbers for a bag of nuts. 

“Hey.”

Lance curses, and drops his quarter. “Jesus Christ, Kogane.” He picks it up, and stuffs it in the coin slot. 

“What was that?” Keith asks. “I never told you I was busy.”

Lance turns around, biting on his tongue. “I, uh…” He bites his lip and widens his eyes awkwardly. “Um, I didn’t want things to be… awkward?”

Keith frowns. “Why would it be awkward?”

Lance taps his fingers on his thigh nervously. “Before you said you didn’t want to date any cops, I… I was kinda, uh…” he trails off, scrubbing at his hair. “Should I say this in a weird accent to make it less awkward?”

Keith makes a face. “What?”

“Nevermind,” Lance says with a wave of his hand. “The thing is… I was planning on, uh…”

“Oh my god, Lance, just spit it out!

“Iwaskindofgoingtoaskyouout.”

Keith blinks. Lance only grows more nervous through the silence; he starts chewing on his bottom lip viciously. 

“Oh,” Keith says. “That’s--”

“I’m cool about it now!” Lance exclaims. “It took me a minute, but now I’m-- I’m so cool. Cucumber. The garden’s resident dick vegetable. I am a dick vegetable, because… yep. That’s me.”

“Ok, you can,” Keith holds up a hand, an awkward smile on his face. “You can stop talking.”

Lance slumps. “Oh thank god.”

Keith wrings his hands. He sighs. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to date another cop, it just gets--”

“Awkward,” Lance finishes. “Yeah, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Keith starts. “Uh, be sorry.” He holds out a hand. “Friends?”

Lance shakes it. “Friends,” he agrees. “Alright then, Detective. I shall see you…” he twirls his finger in a little circle. “Around the precinct.”

Keith nods. “Detective.”

* * *

“I thought Giovanni was going straight to the hand off?” Lance questions.

Keith shrugs. “Maybe he’s having dinner with his side piece first.”

Allura snorts, pulling the van left and parking by the red convertible in front of them. From the car, Giovanni emerges, tailed by a pretty woman with curls and a pink dress. 

“That restaurant is really fancy,” Keith says biting his lip. “Any ideas?”

“Lance, take my jacket,” Allura volunteers. She shrugs it off, tossing it into the backseat. 

The jacket itself is blue leather. On anyone else, it’d probably look strikingly feminine, but of _course_ Lance has the physique to pull it off. 

“Anything for me?” Keith asks, tying his hair into a ponytail. 

Allura shakes her head. “Nope. At least you’ve got a vaguely nice jacket on.”

Keith smirks. “Thanks, ‘Lura.”

“I said _vaguely.”_

Keith sighs, pulling down the collar of his shirt and tucking his hair into place with the help of the rearview mirror. “How do I look?” He asks, turning to Lance. 

“Good!” Lance coughs out. “Like, not hot-- I mean, you are hot, but all I see is-- are clothes on a, uh, genderless blob. You look... professionally good.” He finishes off his disaster with a thumbs up.

Allura cranes her head back just to squint at him. 

Lance makes a little squeak before opening the van door. “Let’s go!” he cries, jumping onto the asphalt before anyone can stop him.

Keith swings out the other side, tucking one last strand of hair around his ear. He grins briskly at Lance, before pulling open the door to the restaurant. 

“I’ve got a visual on--” Giovanni turns around, and Keith backtracks. “The, uh, hostess stand.”

Lance smiles courteously, and Giovanni seems to suspect nothing. He turns around and heads to his table. 

“Hi, we’d like a table for two?” Lance asks. 

The receptionist grimaces. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we’re all booked up.”

There’s a second of silence. Lance’s brain is kind of screaming at him, because come _on._ Really?

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Keith says, latching onto Lance’s arm. “It’s a really special night for us-- Leandro just proposed, and we had our first date here.”

Lance’s stomach tightens the moment he catches onto the lie. “Yeah, and, I would have booked ahead, but I didn’t know if Akira here was going to say yes.”

The receptionist melts. “Oh, that’s just adorable. I’ll try and find a table for the two newly engaged. Could you two wait over there, please?”

“Of course!” Lance says, surprised that even _worked._ “We’d be happy to.”

Keith hooks his arm around Lance’s tighter, and drags him over to the waiting tables. “Sorry for springing that on you,” Keith apologizes. 

“No,” Lance says, “it was a good idea.” He frowns. “Leandro? Really?”

“I could say the same about Akira!”

Lance pouts. “Isn’t that your middle name?”

“Yeah, I don’t _like_ my middle name.”

The bicker for a few more minutes before the receptionist comes up. “We’ve found you a table,” she says with a large smile across her face. “This way, please.”

“Alright,” Lance mumbles as soon as she’s out of earshot. “No more being engaged, just two cops, working a case.”

“Agreed,” Keith whispers. 

The hostess leads them to their table, which is… two feet away from Giovanni’s. 

Giovanni’s side piece’s mouth falls open. “Oh my _god,_ you’re the couple who just got engaged!” she squeals. 

Keith smiles, big and fake. “Yep, that’s us! Leandro and Akira!”

Well, goddamnit. 

* * *

“Really, oysters _and_ champagne,” Lance says. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not often you meet two young newlyweds!” Giovanni exclaims. “I wanted to pay my respects. 

“So, how did you know he was the one?” Giovanni’s side piece asks Lance. Her entire personality is like a can of strawberry soda-- bubbly, pink, and _far_ too sweet.

“Uh,” Lance stutters, wringing his hands. “You know, whenever I... look at his face. And the, uh, attached physique.”

Strawberry Soda nods vivaciously. “And you?” she turns to Keith. 

Keith looks like he’s about to say something, but his face softens. Dark coal eyes blink once, twice.

Keith’s answer is simple and soft. “He makes me laugh.”

Lance gets the distinct feeling he’s not acting.

Lance swallows. He smiles, miniscule, and says, “There’s also, you know, no one else’s opinion that I trust more than his.”

Giovanni’s side piece either misses the tension, or is just completely oblivious. He’s going to go with the second one. “Enough chit-chat, let’s see the ring!” she cries. 

Keith laughs nervously. He sounds like a chipmunk, and Lance would be laughing if he wasn’t stunned half to death. 

“I don’t have the ring on me!” Keith explains. “It, uh--”

“It didn’t fit on his finger,” Lance ad-libs. “I was an _idiot_ and didn’t get the ring size before asking him, so we’re going to have to go out and get a new ring.”

“Ahh,” Giovanni says. “Rookie error.”

Lance laughs, letting some of his natural charm seep in. “You don’t know how terrifying it is when he says yes and then the ring won’t fit!”

All four of them laugh. Keith gazes, something akin to pride in his eyes and he gently bites his bottom lip. 

Well, Lance would be damned if he said he didn’t feel anything. 

“Sorry to leave you all,” Giovanni says, placing his knife and fork on his plate. “But I’m going to go thank the chef.”

“I’ll go bring the car around,” his side piece bubbles. “Bye! Have a good honeymoon!”

“Thanks,” Keith smiles. “We’re going to Waco, Texas.”

Strawberry Soda blinks, then shrugs with a giggle. “Ok. Bye!”

As soon as she’s out of eyeshot, Keith groans and lets his head fall to the table. 

“Waco, Texas?” Lance asks. 

“I don’t know, it’s the first thing that popped into my head!”

Lance looks down at Giovanni’s chair. “He took the briefcase with him. I think the handoff is happening now.”

“Dammit,” Keith mumbles. He knocks back the rest of his champagne. Lance’s eyebrows go up. 

“What?” Keith whines and he pulls his jacket back on. “That stuff is expensive, I’m not gonna waste it!”

Lance slings his own jacket over his shoulders. “Little orphan boy,” he teases, grabbing Keith’s arm and tugging him along. “C’mon, the kitchen’s back here.”

They pass the bathrooms, going all the way back to an open door revealing a surprisingly white kitchen. Inside, Giovanni is shaking the hand of a man in a chef hat. 

“Oh,” Lance deflates. “Maybe he _is_ really saying thanks to the chef.”

Giovanni turns, his gaze latching on the two of them, and Lance panics. 

His brain swims with a million possibilities. Do they run or do they talk their way out? How would Giovanni not suspect them if--

Lance decides to stop thinking. 

“Sorry about this,” he mumbles, before grabbing Keith’s jaw and dragging him into a kiss. 

At first, Keith’s lips are stiff and surprised. Then, slowly, they relax.

Oh god. Oh _god,_ he’s kissing Keith Kogane.

Keith melts into him, their chests pressing together as one of his hands comes up to bury in Lance's hair. His lips are surprisingly soft.

Lance wants to tug on his hair _so bad._

Someone coughs in front of them.

Keith pulls off him, the loss of his lips instantly regrettable. 

“S-sorry,” Lance stutters. “We were just looking for a place to--”

“Boink,” Keith interrupts, his dark eyes wide with nerves. 

“Yes,” Lance stammers. “That is also my, uh, preferred term for it as well.”

Giovanni pats Lance on the shoulder. “I know, I know, young love. No need to apologize.” He gives them a little smile before walking away. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Keith slumps. 

“Sorry,” Lance repeats. 

“No, no, you just saved the case,” Keith heaves. “Thanks, Lance.”

_Thanks, Lance._

God, he’s so screwed. 

* * *

“How was the restaurant?” Hunk asks as soon as they get back in the van. 

“SUCH A NORMAL TIME!” Keith says, far too loudly. Lance lets his head fall into his hands. 

“Why are you being weird?” Allura questions. “You’re _never_ weird.”

Lance rubs the bridge of his nose. “Keith and I kissed.”

“WHAT?”

“It was to keep our cover!” Lance protests. “It’s not a weird thing. It’s not even a thing!”

“It’s _always_ a thing!” Hunk says gleefully. “You two are now destined for each other, end of story, your life is a romance novel!”

Lance groans. “Hunk, shut up.”

In front of them, Giovanni’s car makes a turn and parks by the edge of a public park. He steps out, walking across the grass towards a bench, and Lance starts to open the van door. 

“Wait,” Keith hisses, grabbing his arm. “It’s not a hand off. It’s a _drop_ off.”

Sure enough, Giovanni leaves the briefcase by the bench and climbs back in his car. The convertible pulls off into traffic.

“Damnit,” Lance swears. “Allura, Hunk-- Go after Giovanni and arrest him. Keith and I will wait for the buyer to show up.”

Lance hops out of the car, Keith on his tails, and not a second later the van turns off into traffic. 

“Well then,” Lance grins. “Now, we wait.”

It’s almost chilly. Lance clutches Allura’s jacket around his shoulders, the blue leather devastatingly un-insulatory. He shivers, scrunching up his nose.

“You cold?” Keith asks.

“Ughh,” Lance responds, basically summing it up. “There are some times when I _really_ miss Cuba.”

“I do _not_ miss Texas,” Keith admits. “At least you’ve got the beach in Varadero. Texas is just sand, sand, and oh! More sand!”

Lance snorts, covering his mouth with a hand. “Wait,” he says. “Varadero?”

Keith nods, looking somewhere in the night sky. “That’s where you grew up, right?”

“Yeah,” Lance admits, a little starstruck. “I didn’t know you knew that.”

Keith shrugs. He’s still looking at the sky. “You talk about your family all the time. Your siblings, your nieces and nephews. 

Keith groans, leaning against a tree. “You know what I’m going to do when this is all over?”

Lance nods. “You’re going to go get pierogies potato pancakes and a cup of hot chocolate, boiling hot because you’re a heathen.”

Keith blinks. “That’s… exactly what I was going to do.”

“I, however, shall be having two slices of meat supreme Vrepit Sal’s pizza at display temperature.”

Keith frowns. “You’re going to eat meat supreme pizza cold? That’s gotta be the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Nope,” Lance corrects. “I’m going to eat it at _display temperature._ Think room temperature, but slightly more breathed-on.”

Keith laughs. “You’re gross.”

“There is nothing gross about display temperature--”

“Lance.”

“It’s a perfectly acceptable temperature to eat at, it’s even _better--”_

“No,” Keith says desperately. _“Lance._ The buyer’s looking at us.”

Lance snaps his head around-- a shrewd-looking Asian man is, indeed, staring at them. 

“Well,” Keith gasps. “This is happening.”

“What--”

Keith shoves him up against the tree, and kisses him. 

Lance isn’t ready. He isn’t ready, but he doesn’t care.

The rough bark of the tree digs into his back, while his hands cradle Keith’s waist gently. Keith’s lips are just as soft as before, but now his face is cold and there’s moonlight crackling on his hair. 

Just as Lance is about to finally, _finally_ touch Keith’s hair, Keith breaks the kiss and rips his sidearm out of its holter, pointing it at the buyer. “NYPD, freeze!”

Oh _right._ They’re at work. 

Lance follows Keith’s example, aiming his weapon. “Drop the briefcase, we are colleagues!”

“This is a work event!” Keith adds, for good measure.

The man lets the briefcase fall to the grass with a disappointed _whump._

* * *

He finds Keith in the break room. 

“Hey,” Lance greets. “I need your signature for the arrest reports.”

Keith nods. “Ok.” He takes the folders from Lance’s hand, unfolds the first one, and starts on his signature. 

“Geez, I forgot how long it takes for you to sign stuff,” Lance teases. “I’m just gonna watch Braveheart on my phone real quick.”

Keith smiles, but keeps writing. He switches to the next file. 

Lance starts tapping his fingers on the side of his leg. “You know, I get how that might have seemed like teasing banter, but it wasn’t, you legitimately have a problem.” 

Keith raises his eyebrows, starting to smile. 

“Dammit, that sounds like teasing too.” Lance shakes his head. “Get ready for me to point out your personal flaws, Keith. It’s going to get brutal. I’m talking about your short butt and your weird fingers.”

“Lance,” Keith stops him with a grin, laughter in his voice. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh thank god,” Lance deflates. “It was really starting to get out of control there."

Keith smiles, and hands him the reports. “Congratulations on locking down an identity thief, Detective.”

Lance beams right back. “You too, Detective.”

As he’s leaving, he turns around, and, for good measure, yells, “Short butt!”

If he’d have looked just a second longer, he’d have seen Keith’s smile widen. 

* * *

The moment Shiro walks out of his office, Lance can tell something is wrong. 

“Detectives?” Shiro announces. “I have an announcement to make.”

Keith stands up. “What’s wrong?” he asks, dark eyes wide as he glares at Shiro in a mixture of fear and hesitation. 

Shiro licks his lips, and takes a deep, stuttering breath. Lance’s heart is swimming with fearful anticipation. “As of today, I am being transferred to head of public relations of the NYPD. This is my last day as your captain.”

“What the hell?” Keith exclaims. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Lance blurts out. 

“Oh god,” is Allura’s contribution. “Shiro--”

Keith speaks again. “What the hell?”

“WHAT’S GOING ON!”

“Someone call the police! Wait--”

“Sir, can you--”

“It’s an order, Detective Garrett,” Shiro explains. He looks so beaten down, so tired, Lance can’t _imagine_ how much he’s fought this. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Where does the NYPD get off sending a man who has lost his _arm_ and nearly his _life_ for this organization to the public relations office?

“Who’s forcing you out?” Lance yells. “Tell me, lemme at ‘em.”

“I have a knife.” That’s Keith’s contribution. 

“There’s nothing you can do, either,” Shiro explains. “These-- these years as your captain… they have truly been--” Shiro starts to choke up, his dark eyes filling with tears. “These have been the best years of my life.”

“No, no, no,” Keith stammers. “This can’t be happening.”

“I trust you all to keep up the good work without me,” Shiro assures. “And for the last time--” He coughs, throat full of tears. “Dismissed.”

Shiro walks into the elevator and doesn’t come back out.

“What just happened?” Pidge shrieks. 

Lance doesn’t know. All he can do is stare

* * *

“Hey,” Lance says softly, approaching Keith’s stationary form next to a row of filing cabinets. “Are you ok?”

Keith shrugs. Thankfully, his eyes are dry, but he looks a little beaten down. “I’m coping,” he sighs. “I guess. How are you handling it?”

Lance smiles bittersweetly. “Like I handle everything else. Repressing the hell out of it.”

Keith laughs. It’s less monotone than he thought. 

“How’d you know I’d be down here?” Keith asks, drumming his fingers on one of the filing cabinets. 

“This is where you always go when you’re stressed,” Lance explains. “Guess it calms you down to be surrounded by your beloved paperwork.”

Keith shakes his head before starting to grin. Sighing, he licks his lips and says, “So, a lot of change around here, huh?”

Keith’s eyes are grey in the dim fluorescent lights. His hair is swept back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and he stares at Lance with such trust, such _hope._

Lance kisses him. 

It’s unlike any of the kisses they’ve had before. No one is surprised, or stiff from shock. There’s no cover to be blown, there's no target to watch over each other’s shoulders. 

There’s only _Keith._

Keith’s lips are still soft. Lance folds his hands around Keith’s back, moving and searching while Keith does the same. His arms hook around Lance’s neck and fit their bodies together like puzzle pieces.

When they finally pull apart, one of Lance’s hands is in Keith’s hair. Keith’s arms are latched around his waist, and both of them are too shocked to say anything. 

“Lance! The new captain’s here!”

Lance lets go. 

Neither of them speak. Lance kind of jerks his head towards the door. Keith nods awkwardly and follows him out, his hand brushing against Lance’s as he goes.

After that, it takes him a couple seconds just to remember how to breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> [Allura's Jacket](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/2f/ec/452fec9e84d4afa51766f90789b06aa3.jpg)  
>    
> LMAO YOU THOUGHT I'D PULL THE KLANCE OUT LONGER NO HECKIN WAY
> 
> also lowkey if you've never watched the show, don't worry about shiro. he's going to be just fine.
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @all-this-panic-still-no-disco and come to instagram for a trash can of my faves @liza_marri


End file.
